


Sleepin' with the Fish(Princess)es

by chromyrose



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Buckets, F/M, Femdom, First Time, Fish Puns, Fluff and Smut, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Hermaphroditic Trolls, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tentabulges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromyrose/pseuds/chromyrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meenah guides Karkat through his first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepin' with the Fish(Princess)es

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This fic is set in the dreambubbles, but in some alternate world where Meenah's eyes aren't dead-white, but the color they normally would be if she was still alive. It's just a minor detail but I didn't want it to throw anyone off.

The concupiscent couch in Meenah’s second respiteblock was, as Karkat couldn’t help but notice, basically the most luxurious piece of furniture he’d ever been invited to (no, instructed to) rest upon. A voice in his mind nags that the frame and tall legs are most definitely gold, of the sort that is in everything Meenah owns, even her eyebrows. The upholstery fabric was unreal, soft to the touch like nothing Karkat had ever put his fingers on; for a moment, he couldn’t shake the stupid worry that his callused palms would tear it.

He sunk down onto the couch slowly, fighting to swallow his nerves past the lump in his throat. Meenah’s suggestion that he wait for her in this particular room was casual, friendly, but for the little glimmer of her sharp seadweller teeth and the sharp smell of pheromones that wafted past as she headed for an ablutionblock on her way out of the foyer. Karkat was no stranger to this situation, at least not in his own mind; he was far too genre-savvy in the way of rom-coms to have any doubts about Meenah’s intentions. Wiping his hands on the thighs of his jeans, Karkat forced his mind to acknowledge the obvious, if unbelievable, reason why he was in Meenah’s pailing suite, sitting on her plush red concupiscent couch. 

“Hey buooooooy,” Meenah crooned, swaggering into the room with her pants barely hanging off her thin hips, her shirt already being tossed onto the floor. She left the door ajar after her as she entered, and Karkat’s eyes darted to it, afraid to linger on her protruding bones and bare skin. 

She sat down on the couch beside him, grinning wildly, and when Karkat felt calm enough to look back at her, he found she’d taken her goggles off. 

“Buoy,” she repeated, caressing the fabric of his sleeve with a touch incongruous with her tough, head-bitch-in-charge image. “My Threshie. I’m glad to see you didn’t swim off.”

Karkat made a small noise, his throat still tight and moved his mouth until the words spilled out, “I… Why’d you think I’d go? I wouldn’t go.”

Meenah beamed and nuzzled at his throat, brushing his skin with her delicate earfins. “You seem so tense, guppy, clam down. I’m not gonna hurt’cha.”

His breath came out in an anxious shudder, his head tilted back almost of its own accord. She did not hesitate when presented the chance to press cool kisses to the sensitive, exposed skin. Karkat shut his eyes, and willed his breathing back under his control, though the rush of pleasure coming from each spot of her affections was accompanied by a prick of fear.

 _It’s just instincts_ , Karkat repeated in him mind, in an attempt to relax. Alternian society was full of older trolls ready to take advantage of the youngers, of highbloods who cared not for the lowbloods they were defiling. But that was long ago and far away from this, from Meenah, an heiress, a tyrian-blood, an amazing troll who actually seemed to want this because it was Karkat, not because it was pailing.

The smell of her body’s lust was thick in the air with a soft sweetness accompanying the ocean scent. Karkat could feel himself becoming aroused just from the combination of that and her kisses, but it wasn’t enough to budge his nerves. So he opted for taking his arousal into his own hands, and bought his hands to either sides of her face to press their lips together.

Meenah adjusted instantly, rather happily even, as she wrapped an arm around his head and wound her claws into the roots of his messy hair. Her lips were much colder than his, and the temperature contrast made his bloodpusher pound hard against his chest. He pushed harder, too, into Meenah, and she eagerly complied with her tongue and teeth and, and, and—

Karkat pushed away. He watched, feeling repulsed and aroused and helpless and angry, as Meenah’s expressive eyes flickered between rage and confusion, and perhaps that was sadness but it was gone as soon as he saw it. 

“Guppy,” she started, then shut her lips and rolled her tongue along her teeth in a visible expression of thought. “Oh! You _are_ a guppy!” 

“What?”

Meenah laughed, shaking her head. “Ain’t old enough to have gotten any visits from the drones, huh? Not ready to give your first pail. No wonder you’re shaking like seaweed.”

Her tone had become endearing, and Karkat felt himself heat up. “I’m not a child, stop talking down at me.”

“But you’re so cute!” She squealed, biting on her lip and grinning at him. “Don’t worry about it, Kar-crab, your incredibly thoughtful and gorgeous Empress-to-be has decided to take you under her fins, and teach you _everything_ she knows.”

“I know…! I mean, um, I know… enough. I’ve seen… rom-coms,” he stammered, trying not to meet her gaze. Karkat couldn’t imagine who Meenah had pailed with in the past, but he didn’t disbelieve her claim to having done it. His mind wandered to her group of friends, each one honestly more fucked-up than the next; trying to imagine any of them spread-eagle on this couch before him made both bile and anger rise in his protein chute. 

“Rom-coms, eh?” She echoed, her voice a challenge and a tease. “Then I’m shore this’ll just be a refresher.”

Meenah’s cool hands slipped up beneath the hem of his thick black sweatshirt, and her princess-soft palms kneaded at the supple flesh of his belly. Karkat started to feel a little light-headed, given that all of his blood was pooling low in his core, his arousal, and when Meenah pushed his sweater up his torso he lifted his arms compliantly, allowing her to bare his chest.

“You’ve been training hard, Threshie,” she praised him as her lithe fingers stroked his muscles, the scars from his grub legs left on his torso. Her hand was followed by her tongue, as she licked and kissed the dips in his tight skin, all of his scars. “Good buoy.”

“F-fuck,” he choked out, unable to even look. The tenderness of her touch, and the softness in her voice, it was unbearable for him, for someone who was such a stranger to pity. Karkat could feel his eyes watering, and bit his lip to keep the tears at bay, because he did not want to fall apart in front of _Meenah nook-chafing Peixes_.

“Don’t hide from me,” he heard her say, and then she was tilting his face down by the chin, and when he opened his eyes hers were right there, bright molten pink and gazing at him like a helpless fool in the very chokehold of red romance. She shifted closer to him, one of her thighs sitting atop one of his, ice cold ocean on fiery hot lava. Meenah arched in, and kissed the corners of his eyes, lapping the crimson tears and moving her mouth lower, peppering his cheek liberally with her kisses. “I want to sea all of you, guppy. I ain’t gonna hurtch’a, or get upset.”

Karkat nodded, and she pushed him down by the shoulders, lying him down on his back on the couch; she even brought one of his legs up and across her body, so that now she was resting between his thighs. There was no doubt that she noticed the bulge in his pants, especially not when she spared a moment to give it a quick fondle through the rough fabric, but her eyes roamed his body hungrily.

He gazed at her; not just her eyes, which were so full of their color, so adult, and made her look so much softer and sweeter now that they weren’t hidden behind her goggles, but also her arms, made of lean, sinewy muscle that spoke of sweeps training with a trident, her chest, scrawny and boyish with barely any rumble spheres to speak of, not that he minded that _at all_ , really. Her bones protruded, especially at her hips, where they were sharp and pointed in towards her visibly swollen crotch.

She then leaned in, and pressed their bodies flush against each other, her rumble spheres squeezed into his armpits, her bulge rutting against his. Their lips connected too, and she kissed him fervently, prying her way into his mouth and making the most of her exploration therein. Her claws tangled in his hair again, and his own hands were helplessly groping at her bare back, scratching every so often but just relishing in the feeling of her body, her solidness, the frenzy of red romance her scent was driving him to. As she ground her hips into his, he felt pulsing hot ecstasy rush out to the tips of his toes and fingers. Karkat could no longer help it; he worked a hand down between their bodies and fumbled with the clasp of her pants. 

It took a moment for Meenah to become aware of his fingers, but she suddenly lifted herself up off his body (and he missed her unique chill and the feel of her bloodpusher kissing his ribs) and undid the button with a quick flick of her wrist.

“Y-you’ve been practicing,” he accused weakly, his breath coming out in small puffs, and Meenah winked. She undid his jeans just as swiftly, and then lifted her hips to wiggle out of her pants. Then, with a broad grin, she took his hands and hooked his thumbs on the hem of her boy-shorts. He spluttered inelegantly, but then she whispered in his ear, “Rom-coms,” and he pulled them down her thighs without allowing himself a moment to hesitate. 

Her legs were as lithe and thin as her arms were, lacking the sort of feminine curvature that every red-rom novel Karkat ever read went on about, but he found he didn’t mind at all. Couldn’t mind, really, not when he was so distracted by her generous flushed bulge, slithering between her thighs and rubbing the skin. It was large, definitely larger than his, and given that was the only other bulge he’d ever been so intimate with it was certainly overwhelming, but with the smug satisfaction of knowing that she was so aroused because of… of _him_.

Meenah slipped her cold hands beneath the elastic waistband of Karkat’s boxers, running her open palms along the subtle curve of his hips. 

“If you’re naut ready to go all the waves,” she pronounced slowly, looking directly into his eyes, “you’d betta stop me now.” 

But despite his nerves, and even despite his arousal, Karkat knew what he wanted was to be close to Meenah, and her touches. His breath came out in a shudder, and in lieu of words, he pushed the last of his clothing off of his body. 

Meenah squealed; there was no other word that could describe the eager noise she made, as her hand groped his bare ass playfully. Pressing him down onto the couch with her knees, she sat in his lap, shifted forward so their crotches were barely apart. Her bulge found his, swollen and tender and red, red, mutant _red_ , and the two intertwined. A shudder ran up Karkat’s spine and out of his mouth; Meenah moaned softly, and started nipping at his neck with her sharp teeth. He tilted his head back to bare his throat for her, his eyes falling shut as he was overwhelmed with heat; even so, he could see their two bulges playing projected on his eyelids, their colors twisting and rolling together with no regard for how fucked up and impossible the situation should have been. 

Drumming her fingers over his ribcage, Meenah kissed Karkat’s eyelids to bade him open them, and wordlessly he did. Once more he was looking into her colored pupils, intense in their regal adult hue, and his eyes only flickered away to watch her lick her lips. Her fingers tap-danced down his body, slid over his thighs and behind the root of his bulge; even though he knew what was coming, Karkat could not hold in his pleasured gasp when her fingertips caressed the engorged lips of his nook.

“I wanna stuff ya, little guppy,” she murmured, her voice a little raspy. “Can I just… please ya, Threshie?”

“O-oh jegus _fuck_ , Peixes,” Karkat gasped, embarrassing tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “ _ **Please.**_ ”

In an instant Meenah had his back pushed down on the plush red velvet couch again, but it took a moment longer to get their bulges untwined. With a forced, tight chuckle, Meenah leaned over him, braced the head of her bulge against his folds; Karkat imagined she had to be holding it to keep it out, with how he could feel it writhing against his sensitive skin. She brushed her long, small nose along his cheekbone, and then pushed their lips close together; Karkat took the cue, moved his hands where they wanted to go around her neck, holding her close as she pressed her bulge in slowly.

It was overwhelmingly tight in a way that made Karkat dizzy even with his eyes shut; he could feel her organ pulsing inside of him, somehow quicker than his own frenzied heart-rate. The way that she was writhing inside of him, massaging the walls of his nook in a way his fingers never, ever could, when he dared to try it, threatened to make Karkat forget everything but her name, which he found himself helplessly crying when his ears tuned back in. 

“Oh god, God, fuck Meenah, Meenah, h-haRDER!” 

Meenah bit on his lips, nibbled on them and his tongue, as she ground her pelvis between his legs. His own bulge was sliding sloppily over her skin, grinding, desperate for relief. Karkat removed one of his hands from her neck and moved to grasp it, but Meenah _growled_ possessively into his mouth, and a second later one of her cool palms gripped his shaft tightly. Karkat clutched at her back, more with his claws than anything else, but she didn’t seem to mind as she stroked his bulge and fucked him as unyieldingly as she could. 

“G-glub it, Kar-crab,” she rasped into his ear. “You eel _so good_!!”

With a sharp, hoarse grunt, Karkat felt his bulge burst; he was barely aware of Meenah’s hand quickly pumping his genetic material out, only of how hot it was, how dizzy and breathless and electrified he felt as he came all over their abdomens. He returned to his senses just in time to hear Meenah’s own groan, and then he only felt more sparks shoot through him, this time from his nook as she emptied her hot seed into his body. She clung to his arms as her body erratically thrusted into him, until she was empty.

She collapsed onto the couch beside him after her muscles went slack, and before Karkat could put together the right words, Meenah leaned in and pecked his lips tenderly, lazily.

“Glubbin’ _shell_ , Kar-crab, that was… amazing… fintastic…!”

“…speshell?” he tried, his voice a soft murmur at its loudest.

“Speshell!” She agreed gleefully, a huge grin bursting on her face. “Abshellutely speshell!”

Karkat shifted on the couch, his legs starting to cramp from the position, and groaned when he became aware of just how full he was. 

“Shit, bucket, right,” she sat up, reaching under the couch, and pulled out the bucket and a few towels. “Do you know how to release, guppy?”

He nodded, because though he’d never done it before, he could already feel everything threatening to leak out. With Meenah’s arm on his back to help him sit up, he braced the bucket between his thighs and emptied out her genetic material with a long shudder, flecks of red mixing into the slurry, but not nearly enough. 

“S-sorry I couldn’t hold it for this,” he murmured, looking down at couch. “It was supposed to be a mix, I know, but…”

“Aw, shell, who gives a glub? There aren’t drones anymore, after all. I was gonna shuck this all in my bathtub anyways,” She shrugged, taking the bucket from him and putting it on the floor. She dabbed at his waist with a towel, and then tossed that aside as well. 

“Later, tho. Your Empress’ next decree is that we get our motherglubbin’ snuggles on.”

Karkat relaxed beside her, and Meenah wrapped her arms and legs around his body, clinging to him like a jellyfish. And even though the touch bordered on pale, all Karkat felt was the warmth of flushed romance burning between them as he drifted off to wakefulness.


End file.
